Halcyon Years
by TortiQuercu
Summary: A brief follow-up piece to Smooth Seas Don't Make Good Sailors, featuring a glimpse of Skye and Ward's future under their new identities. AU, SkyeWard one-shot written for Prawn Crackers!


A/N: This one-shot is entirely for **Prawn Crackers**, based on a comment left on my previous fic, Smooth Seas Don't Make Good Sailors: "And I have that image in my head of Ward working as a carpenter, building houses and healing - instead of destroying and hurting."

Something about that image of Ward as a carpenter stuck with me, and I had to get this story down.

Please note, much of this will make no sense if you haven't read Smooth Seas. :)

* * *

"Dad! Daaaaad!"

Ward Morrow frowned around the three nails he was holding between his lips. He quickly finished hammering the one he had been driving into the roof truss and leaned down over the edge of the barn.

"What's up, Alex?" he asked after removing the nails.

"Mom's been trying to call you, but you're not answering your cellphone."

"That's because I'm on a roof, buddy," Ward patiently explained. His neighbour, Rob, owner of the barn in question, chuckled beside him.

He could see his nine-year-old son rolling his eyes despite the distance. "Obviously," the boy replied in good humour. "But she needs you. Nan sent me to come get you."

Cold fear settled into Ward's stomach, which he immediately hid. He turned to Rob with a friendly smile. "Welp, better go see what that's about."

Rob was still grinning. "It's always an adventure at your house, Ward. I bet Seth sheared the dog again."

"Don't jinx me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

His neighbour waved dismissively. "Don't worry about it. It's getting on in the day anyway, and the roof is almost completely framed in. I can finish it up tomorrow."

Ward nodded and climbed down the rafters until he was able to jump to the ground. His sable-haired son was waiting for him. "Everything okay?" Ward asked, his voice low.

Alex shrugged hesitantly. "I dunno. Mom got something in the mail today that upset her. She's trying not to show it, but she's hiding in her office. Nan's worried."

Ward grimaced. He unbuckled his tool belt from around his waist and slung it over his shoulder. "Thanks for coming to get me, buddy," he pulled Alex in for a quick hug.

"Sure, Dad. Race you home?" Alex asked, his big, bright eyes (his mother's eyes) twinkling.

Ward raised an eyebrow. "You're on," he smiled, and Alex took off like a shot. Ward wasn't willing to admit it yet, but he was having to put genuine effort into his footraces with Alexander. That boy was _fast_. They were both laughing and gasping when they arrived back at their tidy white farmhouse minutes later.

"Made you work for it, Dad," Alexander teased him between breaths.

"Rotten kid," Ward winced with a grin.

Alex beamed at him before running up to the back door of their home. His grandmother was waiting there for Ward, she smiled at Alex as he ran past her into the house.

"Sorry to pull you down from Rob's barn, Ward," Angela Morrow apologized. "I'm just…. worried."

Ward brushed off her apology. "Of course, I'm glad you did. What happened?"

"Hope picked up the mail a couple of hours ago, she was thrilled to see there was something from Clint. Before I knew it, though, she was in her office crying and she won't tell me why."

"Oh no," Ward said softly, and Angela nodded. "I'll go talk to her."

"Thanks, dear. I hope it's nothing critical."

Ward went straight to his wife's office, and knocked on her door. There was no response until he spoke softly. "Hope? It's me."

She opened the door wordlessly, and his heart broke. Hope Morrow (he still thought of her as Skye, even after all of these years) was, as a rule, the sunniest, most cheerful and optimistic woman he had ever known. It was almost impossible to get her down about anything, she could stare down a tornado and say she was grateful for the breeze. But now, her big brown eyes looked up at him, shimmering full of tears.

"Ward", she whispered sadly, and he pulled her into his arms.

"Oh, sweetheart, what's wrong?" he breathed, wrapping his arms around her tightly as she burrowed into his chest. Her only reply was to start sobbing, which worried him deeply. He walked her towards the comfortable blue sofa across the room and closed her office door behind himself.

Ward pressed several kisses onto her forehead. "Skye," he murmured.

The use of her former name brought her attention back to him. She sniffed and tried to wipe the tears from her face, mussing her hair and smearing her mascara, making her look distinctly rumpled.

"Oh, dear," he sighed, brushing her hair from her face. "Look at that, I made you untidy!"

She couldn't help but laugh, as he predicted, and she kissed him enthusiastically in gratitude. He didn't mind the rather damp, tear-stained smooch as it seemed to help settle her down.

"Are you okay?" he asked in seriousness once she had pulled away.

"Yeah," she sighed, wiping her eyes again. "I got a letter from Clint. Here, take a look."

She picked up an embossed pale blue envelope off her desk, and he gave it a peculiar look. Most letters they received from her "cousin" came in in recycled manila mailers… Clint wasn't exactly the classiest pen-pal around. The return address on this one was Clint's but the handwriting wasn't. Ward recognized it after a few moments. It was Jemma's.

"Oh," he said, staring at the prim and perfect penmanship.

"Open it!" Skye urged, and he obliged. He pulled out a note on luxurious cream card stock and a photograph. One glance at the picture and he understood instantly why his wife was so upset.

"Oh," Ward repeated, feeling rather crestfallen himself.

"They got MARRIED!" she sobbed. "Weeks ago! And we couldn't be there!"

Ward stared at what was actually a very lovely wedding photo. He wondered when Fitz had started a workout regime, noting how the engineer was filling out his tuxedo rather impressively. Simmons was, without surprise, a stunning bride — tastefully bedecked in white lace and holding an understated bouquet. What really made the picture, though, was the look they both had for each other: absolute, unquestionable love. He slid the photo back in the envelope and swallowed hard.

"They look great," he said over the lump in his throat.

Skye blinked at him. "Yes, they do," she said slowly. "The card is their wedding invitation. Clint wrote on the back that he went to a co-worker's wedding and thought I might like to see. We didn't get our own invitation, of course, since we don't 'know' FitzSimmons and all."

"Jemma addressed the envelope. I bet you anything that she made Coulson's life miserable trying to get an exception. I'm sure she wanted to really send that invitation to us, Skye. I know they would have wanted us there. But it… it can't happen. Think of the boys, Skye. We can't throw away nine years of protection and put them at risk just to go to a wedding…"

Skye sniffed and sighed. "I know," she admitted quietly. "I didn't say I was being reasonable about this. I know we couldn't have gone, Ward. I just… I miss… oh, _Hell_. You know I wouldn't change a thing. I walked away from SHIELD with nothing and ended up with you, Mom and the boys. It's more than I ever dreamed, more than I ever deserved." She insinuated herself back into his arms and he held her close, burying his face in her hair.

"You're crazy, you know that, right? I agree with you on Seth and Alex, but how you ever decided that ending up with me was a prize rather than a curse, I have no idea. I've never deserved you in any way, least of all as my ridiculously adoring wife."

She tilted her face up and brushed her lips over his. "You know what else makes me a little sad about that photo?" she breathed against his mouth.

He nipped at her delicious lower lip. "What's that?"

"FitzSimmons got _married_," she replied impishly. "For real. Instead of just hacking some county records and borrowing a new name."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Borrowing…? I'm not giving this name back, sweetheart… and I'm not giving you back, either. And we can't very well have a wedding _now_ when everyone thinks we've been married for a decade."

"I suppose. You could always ask me, though," she grinned at him.

Ward frowned at her. "To marry you? Are you serious?"

Her face turned to a pout. "Oh come on, Ward. Where's my romantic marriage proposal? It's only every little orphan girl's second best dream, after a loving mom and dad, of course."

He gave her a flat look. "You're playing the little orphan girl card on me, really?" Her lower lip began to tremble and he groaned. "I'll have to get down on one knee, won't I?"

She laughed and twined her arms around his neck. "Well, no. You'd probably just look silly down there. I'd hate to burst into an uncontrollable giggle fit and ruin the moment."

He smiled down at her and marvelled how, even now, his heart would do a few flips when he held her. "I love you, you know," he whispered. "Hope Skylar Morrow, will you marry me?" He felt a rush of exultation as her big brown eyes filled instantly with tears again.

"Oh," she replied softly, her voice hitching. "Yes. Yes, I will."

"Well, that's settled, then." He splayed his hands across his wife's back and began to nuzzle her neck, setting her pulse racing.

"I've already got a ring," she said throatily. "Maybe we can seal this pledge with a dalliance on my sofa instead."

He grinned against the warm skin of her throat, moving to suck gently at her pulse points and causing her to moan softly. "I am a fervent believer in dalliances," he murmured. "And your sofa is surprisingly comfor….."

"MOM! DAAAAAAD!" a booming holler from Alexander interrupted him. "_Seth is drawing on the dog!_"

"…aaand there goes my chance," Ward sighed, starting to pull away.

Skye's iron grasp held him close. "Don't you dare," she growled at him. "Let Mom handle it. A little marker never hurt Radar anyway. Now…. I believe you were saying….?"

"Um. Oh, yes. Your sofa, and how you should be on it, preferably naked."

"That's right. Come on, Mr. Morrow. Show me what those rough carpenter's hands can do."

His hands tightening on her hips and his teeth on her throat made her whimper. "Yes, ma'am," he rumbled deeply as his heart pounded. "Your wish is always my command."


End file.
